#Peggy Carter Prompt

[captainjimothycarter]

okay hear me out... cap!Peggy = winter soldier!Michael

Why must you hurt me? 🥺🥺

Imagine Peggy getting that mask off (Look I don't remember WS and how it all happened, so there are scenes in my head that might be 100% fanon) and that shock, the horror of her long-dead brother before she even joined the SSR is staring at her.

The same shade of brown as hers, staring dead in her eyes. No life in them, no spark of joy, just dead. Absolutely dead, dark eyes. That spark of life is long gone and out of all that's been done to him, the horrors she can only imagine he's gone through, that's what hurts the most

She can only whisper his name and it's Natasha/Steve (whoever is her support (tm)), drags her away before Michael can kill her and damn if he's not trying.

When Peggy can finally speak, she just whispers childhood memories, shared secrets that seemed like such a big deal at the time because they were kids.

She rather Michael to be dead then to be this monster that Hydra had created because at least, while dead, he would've been at peace.

This breaks my heart in the best manner

[tremorsmackenzie]

imagine if peggy had shown up at area 51 instead of sousa because of whatever. simmons wouldve just collapsed on the spot i think, and the interactions with may, daisy and elena wouldve just been great, imagine peggys reaction to seeing so many female agents as equals/superiors to their male colleagues...

oh no

now i want someone to write this

[tatsumiku1]

Rant about renaissance of Cartinelli ao3 tag

Cartinelli tag needs to revive on ao3. Because we only ever had just fics for cartinelli nothing else. Like just to be realistic they were never in the million years were going to be canon in a Marvel show. Disney will burn itself down before giving Cap's girl ( because that's what Peggy only is to them) a female love interest ( let me also add the only love interest that made sense and was literally the best option for Peggy put of all her canon or non canon relationships). Agent Carter literally needs to go viral so that new people should watch it and make content for them again. I wish I was talented enough to write something for them but alas I have the writing skills of a potato. All the other Peggy ships always have new fics. So why not cartinelli. I have so many fic ideas but again I'm a loser writer so that is not going to work.

[cherrywinter]

did this to get out of an art block and it has been sitting in my folders for too long and uhhhh i dont think im going to finish this

for @steggyfanevents' steggy week 2023 day two: wips and updates

[theawkwardterrier]

Academic Antagonism, Scholastic Strife

Steggy Week 2k23, day 3 Prompt: AUs and crossovers

Summary: The history department at Shield University includes a pair of professors with a particular level of collegiate conflict.

Thanks to @steggyfanevents for hosting!

It is, essentially, a matter of course every September.

Angie has been the history department administrator for long enough that she can sense the approaching storm in the air. She breaks into the apology gift card she got last semester to buy herself the biggest, fanciest coffee from her favorite campus café and sets her jaw as she arrives at her desk.

The first student is at the doors to the building the moment they open for business hours.

"I need to speak to someone." There goes the bag, plunking down on her desk (actually clean for once! She'd made an effort to get rid of her host of reminder post-its before the start of the new school year, and now look) as a hand reaches in to yank out a paper schedule as some kind of evidentiary prop. "Look, I was placed in—"

Angie looks over the boy, playing the sort of instinctive guessing game that at least offers a tiny bit of entertainment to the whole process. Unfortunately, he has a copy of Steve's latest book sticking out of the bag, which takes most of the fun out of it (although he does have a copy of The Fountainhead there too which, if it's not class reading, either Steve or Peggy would have fun with). Sighing, Angie goes through her dutiful patter nevertheless: "Both Professor Carter and Professor Rogers currently have entirely full rosters for all of their lectures and seminars. Which session would you like to be placed on the waitlist for?"

“I’ve got to get into Professor Rogers’ Tuesday/Thursday afternoon section — his take on urban history is completely—”

“I wouldn’t sleep on Professor Carter,” says a passing man. “Stick with her and she'll teach you something.”

Angie purses her lips at the back of the man's blond head as he exits the building and then resigns herself to listening to a very earnest undergraduate trying to convince her that his entire future depends on getting a seat in Steve’s Metropolitics of Race and Place course.

Even non-majors will often make their chosen class a priority to arrange their schedule around, simply based on the reputations of Professors Rogers and Carter, and, all told, more than a few people will get shuffled around, trading into the course that they want. Whether it will be before Angie goes through both her café gift card and her bottle of Advil is anyone's guess.

“—and if you don't think that the prevalence of racialized propaganda was unique and endemic to the period, and of course led into its use in the Second World War, I simply don't know what to say to you."

"I'm not saying that it wasn't a part of it, but it only seems unique if you remove the context of—"

"Oh, bloody Nora, do not start listing nineteenth century European conflicts to me again, Steven."

"Well, Peg, it's hard not to when you're trying your hardest to ignore a key piece to the entire issue. And while we’re at it, to suggest that World War I propaganda was the key pathway to reliance on cultural stereotypes that had already been spreading around Europe for centuries before and that the Nazis only—"

There aren't all that many people standing around on the first floor of the College of Arts and Sciences building on a Thursday afternoon, but those who happen to have scheduled themselves a late class or are meeting friends to start their weekends early stop and watch the bickering pair striding down the hallway.

"I had Professor Rogers last semester,” says one student to the rest, watching the two turn the corner. “Life-changing.”

“There is no way he’s better than Professor Carter,” says one of the others. “If I hadn’t already been too far along with all this double major crap, her class would have made me switch to history.”

“Yeah, but the thing is, do you think they’re…you know…doing it?” one of the crasser members of the group as they all turn to leave the building. “The way they were arguing, there were definite sparks there.”

“No way,” someone snorts. “They argue like that all the time. Everyone knows that they hate each other. Half the history majors are Jets and Sharks over them — Team Carter versus Team Rogers.”

“I know who I’d join,” says Steve’s former student immediately, and Peggy’s agrees, glaring, but most of the rest seem to be of the opinion that they couldn’t be paid to care this much about school and since they’re the ones who are, in fact, paying, there are more interesting things to talk about.

The newly minted members of Teams Rogers and Carter glance at each other, for once in agreement — the others simply have to experience it themselves to understand.

The campus pub, a cozily dark, wood-paneled little establishment that leans perhaps a little too much into academic cliché, usually hosts events a few times a week: comedy, music, trivia. The new manager, however, wants to mix it up (and perhaps take advantage of that stereotypical appearance). Few of her colleagues think that anyone will turn up for a debate between two history department professors, but they’re bolstered anyway by the usual uptick in stressed-student patronage as the semester gets closer to its end, so at least it doesn’t seem like it will hurt.

Even a half hour before it’s supposed to start, the place is nearly at capacity. As the professors take their places behind the lecterns borrowed for the occasion, people are having to be turned away at the door for fear of violating the fire code. By the time the manager declares a tie, Professor Rogers is pink-cheeked, Professor Carter is starting each of her statements with a tight, “If my esteemed colleague would recall…” and as a couple passes outside they turn to each other and wonder what sporting event could be going on inside to be inspiring so much passion.

You’d think that things would quiet down a bit around finals time but that isn’t the case. With the new courses for next year announced and selection already under way, there is a second round of haggling and complaints about unfairness and bribery attempts to get into the desired sections. Leaving for the afternoon even as she sees the students still lining up and hears them trying to make their cases directly to the professors themselves — “I understand that you’d like to continue with my spring course, Nicole, but I think that you might in fact find the perspective enlightening” — Angie feels like she still hasn’t entirely caught her breath from the first round months ago.

She demands double the gift cards, or she’s transfering to the sociology department, where the faculty hasn’t done anything noteworthy in about a hundred years and no one has ever decided to become even the least bit fanatical about any of them.

Finals are over, and snow blankets the empty campus. Vacation has taken over the minds of the students, even as they wait for their grades to come in.

“I’ll trade you for the dumplings,” Peggy says from where she is leaning against the arm of the sofa while Steve faces her from the opposite end. Their feet tangle in the middle.

“Sure, do you have the pad thai there?” They lean forward to exchange cartons, kissing briefly before they relax back to their respective sides.

Peggy swallows and says, “Since we’ve both managed to finish with our grading, I thought we might go skating tomorrow.”

“You just want to see me fall again,” Steve complains, smiling.

She makes a little humming sound, that impish curl at the edge of her mouth — bare for once, since it’s only the two of them relaxing at home. “Perhaps, but you did know about that bit of sadism when you married me.”

“Well, as long as you help me back up.”

“You know that I’ll always kiss it better, my darling.”

A couple of students, still in town due to canceled flights, spot them walking hand in hand to the rink the next afternoon, skates over their shoulders. Theories range from some kind of hostage situation to a social experiment, enforced faculty bonding to mutual amnesia. After all, what else could be believed?

[maddiedrawz]

someone write this but for like mordern au carterwood or smth- catradora works too

(x)

[glorious-spoon]

Peggy/Daniel/Jack, #20

:D thank you! I hope you enjoy - it's always a treat to write these three.

Peggy/Jack/Daniel #20: kiss on a scar.

-

In the morning sunlight, the whole bedroom seems golden. Lacy curtains diffuse the light and offer some measure of privacy, although the larger of the two windows overlooks Daniel's overgrown backyard instead of the neighbors across the street. Still, new housing presses close, and Jack's car parked out front for the better part of a week is enough to set tongues wagging, she knows.

It's a concern that feels distant right now, in the hazy warmth of a Saturday morning; currently, a more pressing concern is the fact that Daniel's queen-sized bed really isn't big enough for all three of them, especially given Jack's appalling habit of starfishing across the center of the mattress. On his other side, Daniel has solved the problem by lying half on top of Jack and anchoring himself with an arm across his ribs, but Peggy is in dire peril of tumbling off the narrow strip of mattress and onto the floor.

"This is ridiculous," she says under her breath, and nudges at Jack's knee until he moves it with a sleepy mumble, allowing her to squirm into a more secure position.

"Sorry," he yawns, without opening his eyes. 

"I'm sure," Peggy retorts, with a tartness she doesn't really feel. On Jack's other side, Daniel snickers quietly, not asleep after all.

"None of this ever came up in etiquette school, sue me," Jack complains. He yawns again, halfheartedly covering it with the hand not pinned beneath Daniel, then turns toward Peggy to offer her a sleepy kiss.

"I'd be shocked if it had," she says, but she's completely lost the battle against her smile. Daniel shifts, draping himself over Jack's back and leaning across his shoulder to kiss her as well. Then he kisses Jack's cheek, the back of his neck, and the spot on his shoulder where there's a fading, puckered exit wound from the bullet that nearly killed him a year ago. Jack closes his eyes with a contented hum as Peggy smooths her thumb over the matching scar on the front of his chest.

A lingering reminder of the terror that brought them together. Like the bullet wounds on her body, it'll never completely disappear, but it's fading now. Impulsively, she leans down to kiss it.

"Peggy," Jack murmurs. His hand is in her hair now; when she slides her hand across his bare hip, she meets Daniel on his other side. Their fingers tangle together, holding Jack between them. 

"Mm?" she asks, and presses her lips to his skin again.

"Nothing," Jack says, and there's a thread of laughter in his voice now. "By all means carry on."

"Thank you, I think I shall," Peggy says archly. Daniel lets out an amused noise, and Jack shakes with laughter for a moment, and after that there are no more words between them for a while.

-

(For these kiss prompts!)

[emerysaks]

Invite Me to the Wedding

Anon - you asked for something Captain Carter/Angie. I hope you enjoy this!

"Look, grandma, you need to put yourself out there. It's been what? Eighty years since you last saw action?"

Peggy wrinkled her nose in distaste and took another bite of her sandwich. 

Natasha smirked. "Hit a little too close to home?"

Peggy finished her ham and cheese and slowly drank the last few sips of her water. 

Natasha laughed. "What about Nate Matthews in R&D? You've talked to him a few times."

Peggy shook her head. "He's pleasant, but not my type."

Natasha leaned closer. "What about Couls-"

Peggy held up a finger and glared. "His hero worship aside, Phil Coulson is like a younger brother to me, and the mere thought of entertaining him in that capacity is horrifying." Peggy's glare faltered when their waitress, Angie, stopped and set a slice of pie in front of each of them. 

Peggy looked up in confusion. "We didn't order any pie."

Angie smiled. "They're on the house."

"Oh, that's awfully kind of you," Peggy said. 

"I know you like the apple pie here," Angie continued. She looked toward Natasha. “Your pal here has a bigger sweet tooth than anyone I’ve ever met. How come I’ve never seen you around?”

Peggy seemed at a loss for words, and Natasha was intrigued.

"If you ladies need anything else, let me know," Angie said, and Natasha could swear she heard the disappointment in her voice. 

"Yes, of course," Peggy murmured. "Thank you, ah, Angie."

"My pleasure, Captain Carter." She glanced at Natasha before shifting her attention back to Peggy. "See you for lunch tomorrow?" she asked.

Peggy's ears turned red, but she nodded. 

"Can't wait," Angie smiled, delight evident in her eyes. She laid the check on the table and hurried away toward another customer. 

Natasha grinned. So, that's how it was.

As Peggy watched Angie leave, Natasha leaned over and poked her in the arm. 

"Wow," she teased.

"Don't be crass."

Natasha laughed. "You're ancient, Cap, but you're not dead."

"What's that supposed to mean," Peggy huffed.

"Please. She likes you."

Peggy frowned. "Don't be daft. She's just being friendly."

Natasha laughed. "Right, and I was just Tony’s assistant."

"How he manages to be more insufferable than Howard is still a mystery."

"Regardless," Natasha said, "It's obvious that you like her. How often do you come here, anyway?"

Peggy blushed. 

"Twice a week?" 

"It doesn't matter.”

"Four times a week?"

"I like the food here," Peggy protested.

"Cap, are you here every day?" Natasha teased. 

Peggy shot her a dirty look. "I am not here every day."

"You take the Sabbath off?"

Peggy rolled her eyes and picked up the check. "May we go?"

"Only if you promise to ask her out."

"What?"

"Ask her out. That’s allowed now, you know,"

"No."

Natasha grinned. "If you don't, I will."

Peggy glared at her. "You'll do no such thing."

"Watch me." 

Natasha lifted a finger to get Angie's attention and motioned for her to come over.

"Stop it," Peggy hissed.

"Last chance," Natasha grinned as Angie arrived at the table.

"Did you need something else?" 

Natasha smirked. "My friend wants to ask you a question."

Peggy looked like she wanted to murder Natasha, but her anger deflated when Angie trained her gaze on her. 

"Yes?"

Peggy looked at Angie with uncertainty, and Angie looked equally uncomfortable in return.  

Natasha sighed. Peggy was acting like a teenager. She might be a war hero, but if she didn't find her footing, this Cap would crash and burn before ever leaving the runway. She opened her mouth to put them out of their misery, but Peggy spoke first, apparently having found her resolve. 

"Might I borrow your pen?"

"My pen?" Angie asked, confused. 

Peggy nodded. 

"Um, sure," Angie said. She reached into her pocket and produced a cheap click pen.

"Thank you," Peggy said. She smiled at Angie and then looked expectantly at Natasha. "Your half is fourteen dollars."

Natasha reached into her wallet and handed Peggy twenty. 

Peggy took it, scribbled something across their check, and then placed Natasha's money and another twenty atop it. She handed the pen back to Angie and smiled. 

"Thank you, Angie. We don't need any change."

Angie appeared confused, but she took the pen and picked up the money and check. As she read Peggy's message, she began to smile, and when she looked up, her cheeks were pink.

"I would love to," she told Peggy. 

"Excellent," Peggy murmured. 

Angie smiled shyly. "And I can text you at this number?"

Peggy looked embarrassed. "It might be easier if you called. I'm still getting the hang of texting."

"Sounds good." Angie winked

"I look forward to it.”

Angie beamed. "Me too." She glanced at a booth a few rows over and bit her lip. "I have to go, but I'll call," she promised as she scurried away. 

Natasha grinned at Peggy as she gathered her things. 

"Stop staring."

"I'm not."

"You are," Peggy growled. "I can feel it."

Natasha shrugged. "You know, Stark told me paranoia is a side effect of the thawing process."

Peggy rolled her eyes. "Oh, do shut up."

Natasha laughed and grabbed her pack as she made her way to the door. "I only have one request, Cap."

Peggy narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid to ask, but I will." 

Natasha stepped through and allowed Peggy to exit first. 

"Send me a wedding invite, okay?"

The horrified look on Peggy's face was well worth the punch in the arm. Natasha continued laughing as Peggy stalked down 42nd Street and made a note to remind her of this moment the day Peggy married that waitress. She wouldn’t be surprised.

[incorrectsteggyquotes]

Peggy: Are we meant to be in there?

Steve: Given the alarming number of warn signs, I highly doubt it.

[captainjimothycarter]

AU where during the Attack of New York, Peggy refuses to evacuate despite Captain America demands it and instead helps the citizens that are trapped even at the risk of her own life.

Steve finds himself constantly running into her as he pulls citizens out from trapped buildings or cars. Hes truly taken aback when she beats him to the punch and uses her body to shield a father and child who'd fallen from shrapnel raining down.

Its no surprise in the end, she ends up hurt, protecting /him/ of all people. Hes thankful but seeing her bleeding out in his arms and that little whimper would haunt him for weeks to come.

Peggy cant say shes too surprised when she comes to, seeing an exhausted, dirty Captain America by her bedside. Hed looked like he'd just nodded off, his hand in hers, still covered in dust and grime, but she swears hes never seemed so beautiful.

She'd intended to let him sleep but soon as she shifted, he was awake and alert, eyes on her. That boyish smile as relief washed across his features.

"I remember you," he croaks, throat aching from the shouting and dust. "From before all of...this. You're the one that punched that reporter for harassing me at that cafe."

"And not for the first time," she replies. "He has a problematic habit of harrassing folks. Im finally glad I could give him a shiner to remember why harrassing innocent people is a bad idea."

"You're...amazing." The admission comes out in breath of a whisper, looking down at her with stars in his eyes.

The heart monitor reflected that, her heart beating faster and she blushed, unable to look away.

"Captain America called me amazing..." She laughed, reaching down to hold his hand. "I think you're pretty amazing too, Steve. Wouldnt mind seeing you more."

[skyler10fic]

Peggy: "Oh no, that part of the story is wrong. Steve didn't 'lose' his virginity; we traded fair and square ;) "

[dirtydoctorwho]

Sargent Barns?

What if ... Peggy was driving the Starks that night?

[polizwrites]

Tulip - Steve Rogers

Tulip - an act of affection so blatant everyone notices - well, that's quite appropriate! 😁 I went a little afield of the prompt within the time I could allot to this, but hopefully you can still see the intent.

Extending her Mission

Just because Project Rebirth had folded didn't mean Peggy Carter was done with her mission. Once she learned that there was talk of sending Captain America to the European Theater to boost troop morale, she started making plans to give Steve the opportunity to prove himself. It just so happened that a USO tour was planned for northern Italy, so she forged orders to make sure their paths converged.

It seemed the fates were smiling - albeit grimly -- upon her plans; while Peggy was as distressed as anyone to learn that the 107th Infantry had suffered major casualties, she also knew that Steve had a very special connection to that particular division. He'd mentioned Barnes to her many times, always with a certain fondness that spoke to more than childhood bonds. It didn't take more than a gentle nudge to get Steve on his feet, asking questions instead of feeling sorry for himself.

Phillips couldn't have played his part better than if he'd been thoroughly briefed, giving Steve just enough hope while pricking at his pride all at the same time. He was ready to show the world the hero she'd always seen in him; he just needed a bit of help to get there.

It didn't take much to convince Howard to provide transportation; he'd been thoroughly disappointed at the shuttering of Project Rebirth, and although he barely knew Steve, he was reckless enough to want in on the plan.

Peggy's heart was in her throat when Steve jumped out of the plane and the following forty-eight hours were perhaps the longest in her life. But when she saw Steve marching at the head of a mass of former prisoners with Barnes at his side, she sighed with relief. It had been a successful mission after all.

Thanks so much for the prompt! If anyone else wants to play: Flower Prompts

[sunnysideprincess]

The Last of Us x What If AU

Shield finds Captain Carter and Peggy struggles to survive in a world that's left her behind

Bruce is called on the helicarrier to offer his assessment on this pathogen Hank Pym and his "team" brought back from the quantum realm, then meets zombie Hank and Janet with Scott well on his way there

Some stuff happens, shit blows up and there's zombies everywhere

Fast forward five years, Peggy is called in by Howard for a favor, where she meets Shield Commander Bucky

Howard explains to Peggy that his son, Tony needs to be shipped off to a safehouse for shield

Hydra attacks, Bucky is wounded while fighting against the Winter Soldier (dun dun dun), so Peggy has to go with Tony alone

Tony is a special case, immune to zombiefication because of the reactor in his chest (just go with it)

Cue angsty bonding between them, Peggy realising she might actually be able to live in this century thanks to this kid

Meanwhile there's Hydra, who sends its asset after them because they want to weaponize the cure

Peggy and the Soldier fight, the mask falls off —it's Steve Rogers (dun dun dun)

Steve is confused because feels, Peggy is confused because this is Steve , but not her Steve- what is going on?

Angsty stalking and run-ins on Steve's side, and Peggy coming to terms with the loss of her Steve, Tony being curious about this weirdo and his metal arm which leads to awkward bonding between him and the soldier

Tony and Peggy reach the safehouse, which is not a safehouse but a lab where Shield wants to cut Tony open and use whatever they find to create a non-digging-a-hole-in-your-chest cure

Peggy disagrees, goes on a warpath and is stopped by Bucky who tells her this is what Steve would've done, for the greater good. But then Steve steps out, carrying Tony, shoots Bucky (dead, maybe? Idk) and the trio escapes

Tony wakes up, Peggy lies to him about the doctors not needing him for the cure anymore and Steve goes along with it

Maybe a part 2, where Peggy dies trying to fight off Hydra and Tony wants revenge while Steve refuses to leave his side because the last thing Peggy asked for was to keep Tony safe

[glorious-spoon]

oh whump prompts! I love me some characters in pain. I spun and got deafened. Peggy and Daniel would be great, but I'd be cool with any Agent Carter characters. Thanks.

:DD thank you! Some Peggy and Daniel casefic gone wrong for you:

-

For the first few moments, everything was chaos and pain. Peggy stumbled, dizzy, and warm hands caught her and propped her up. Daniel. She shook her head, and agony lanced through her head again. Her vision finally cleared.

The blast had taken out the entire dockfront, leaving nothing in its wake but splintered bits of wood floating in the choppy sea and twisted metal scattered across the scorched pavement. A piece of plating was embedded in the wall halfway up the building.

Peggy blinked, shook her head again, and stumbled; Daniel caught her elbow again.

He was speaking. There was blood on his face from a cut on his eyebrow—quite a lot of blood, she thought dazedly, although the cut didn’t look deep—and he was speaking, and—and she couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

“What?” she asked. That she could hear, or feel, at least: the vibrations in the bones of her skull. “What? Daniel, I can't hear you.”

His eyes went wide, which was less than reassuring. Something warm and wet was dribbling from her left ear. When she swiped her fingers at it they came away bloody.

Panic spiked; she forced it down.

Daniel was speaking again. She could make out the shape of her name on his lips, but the rest of it might as well have been in code for all she could tell. It wasn’t silent; there was a horrible ringing still echoing in her ears, as though her head was a massive gong. But she couldn’t hear him speak, and she couldn’t hear the motor of the car that was approaching with Mr. Jarvis grim and white-faced behind the wheel.

“Daniel. Daniel, I believe I must have ruptured my eardrums,” she said. It felt like a shout; it felt like she wasn’t speaking at all. It was terrifying.

She would be fine. It would heal. She would be fine.

He nodded. His grip was tight, but she didn’t pull away. There was comfort in the bruising pressure of his fingers as he aimed them both toward the car and kept her steady as they made their way.

-

Prompt me some whump!